Kel

I have vivid memories of J. I am trying to pack those up in a little box and cherish them but also quit thinking about him. Thinking about what happened to him is driving me nuts.  I did not think about him in the last few years it’s been since adding my blog to junkylife that the memories have come back.  I have so many good things to think about now.  I am not being sarcastic I do have good things in my life.

 J’s band played at least twice a month at one place or another.  Sometimes at huge parties at beach houses. How would I describe them? Well they were a speed thrash band.  Lots of pounding bass lines and double bass and crunchy guitars. I had my place behind the full stack he used.  I was always sitting behind it, at least at the owl, where they played the most.  Most of the time, sometimes I was merch girl. I could rarely get close to the front as the mosh pits were normally rowdy.  I cannot remember their name which says a lot about my state of mind, obscured indeed.  Those days were all Vaseline screen. 

I got along with J’s band mates well and no one seemed to resent J dragging me everywhere, well almost.  It got where I would flatly refuse to go to band practice.  Mainly because J and I would get high and Greg especially did not like it.  So I had enough of coming out of the bathroom laughing to looks like I was fucking Yoko.  Mike was my on again, off most of the time, boy.  We liked each other fine, well most of the time, but I never had more than a physical attraction to Mike.  And to be honest he was intellectually retarded.  I sadly used to get amusement from using words he could not understand.  And he would always agree with me.  J would laugh and tell me to stop it.  Good Times.  It felt like the guy with a stupid girlfriend in role reversal. 

Anyway I write all of this because had I not dated Mike then I am sure J and I would have got together.  But being that Mike was his best friend it was a moral issue with J.  One I respected. That and most of the time we were so high sex was not possible. We also talked on the way to the airport, when I left, about the fact that had we become a couple, well it could have been really good and really bad.  As J put it we would have been thoroughly lost in each other.  Slowly destroying each other with drugs.  One of the last things he said to me was how much happiness could I take Tangerine?

So onto this night…..  This memory is so vivid  this one night, and the night I was attacked, are so clear.  I know why on concerning the attack but this one well because had it went differently my whole life may have changed.  J and I well who knows right, shoulda, woulda, coulda, fuck it. 

I had just watched my J play…  The club was HOT and small and packed.  And the show was good and everyone in the band was happy.  Sloane was getting the money; yeah sometimes they got paid.  This night Mike had wondered off into the crowd of admirers, mostly ones that had short skirts.  He would sometimes come and find me at the end of the night and ask to come over.  Sometimes I said yes.  It depended on a number of things.  How much heroin I was on and what J was doing.  Anyway Mike and I did not come to this show together nor were we leaving together.  And J was living with me. 

I had been drinking a lot.  This was out of character.  Sometimes I would be in the mood and well then I would make up for not drinking 99% of the time.  I never was a whining, crying, can’t stand up drunk. It was about 3:30 AM.  J and I wanted to get high and go home. We had loaded the car, with all J’s stuff.  Helped the rest of the band load Slone’s van, a mini-van no less. 

J and I got into his car and booted up.  We bitched about the fact that both of us had way to much to drink. I used to love the times he would shoot me up. I would put my head back and feel his hands putting the tie on, then running fingers down the inside of my arm, slapping a bit.  Then those fingers finding the spot they want.  Me holding a lighter sometimes to see the blood plume in the barrel. Then the push, and J’s warm fingers would put something cotton whatever and fold my arm. Many times holding my hand.  He would always wait a few seconds make sure I was ok then do himself.  If we were sick I would do my own. Anyway he booted up.  J was enjoying my drunken personality and antics.  I was screaming out the window. To this day I can have a super silly personality.  Being a real pest I am sure. So we are riding along ocean breeze in my face. I am wearing a short black dress, another baby doll; I wore them all the time then, sometimes with strange hats.

 I remember that J had switched off Mr. Bungle and I know it was Mr. Bungle because we listened to it non stop for the whole year.  That year was about Primus, Sepultura, The Beastie Boys and some others. J and I listened to a lot of different music that our friends hated.  Led Zeppelin, Elton John, The Police, Bodycount, NWA, ok you get the picture.  This is important because we had a secret love for Paradise By the Dashboard Light’s, you know Meatloaf.  I know it’s fucking weird.  But in the middle of that song is this incredible disco thing.

So J turned on the radio and to our mutual amusement it was Meatloaf, Paradise By the Dashboard Lights.  Well we started singing and laughing.  He was putting his arm around me and pulling over to kiss me on the head.  Or tickling me. It was one of those magical moments where a shift occurs and things you only thought about are now very real possibilities.  I always rode with my feet on the dash and he was very flirty pulling my skirt up. I was just as flirty putting my shoeless feet in his lap, rubbing across things.  Something I would never do but I was very ahhh uninhibited that evening. I remember at one point getting on my knees and leaning out the window and he smacked me so hard on my ass.  I mean pulled my dress up and smacked me. Driving or not that gets a tackle.  I jumped across and laid my upper body in his lap, my head on the driver side door. And well at that point I knew he was excited to have me there. You get the picture this was heavy flirting.  This was we are going to fuck body language. We had a fairly long drive since the show was downtown and we lived out on the island.  J asked me if I was hungry and I was so we went through a What A Burger drive through and got food.  I climbed into his lap facing him to order my food.  Yep Kel was a bit drunk and high.  Then I made him pull up to the window with me attached like some kind of giant child.  I remember looking into his eyes and having a moment were I leaned in for a kiss just as the stupid bitch said, your order is ready.  I leaned back on the steering wheel and look at J, he sighs.  That night he would look into my eyes and we had decided this was it.  We were going to have sex, it was not spoken but fuck I mean we were close  to sex right there in the drive through, nothing but clothing and a bit of decency stopping us.   

I was starting to nod a lot. I got back on my side of the car but stayed close to J our legs and shoulders touching.  My head dropping to his shoulder as I nodded the car silent after our singing and dancing fest.  Most of the time we drove home in silence after such a loud night.  I remember waking to see J’s gaze locked on me, my skirt was flipped up, my dress that laced down the front was untied and half open. His hand on my thigh one finger brushing the skin, an inch from the edge of my panties. I believe I was making noises in my sleep as J had a huge grin. I would wake up and he was driving smiling then we would look at each other. He had a different look as his gaze slide up and touched mine. Serious. Not trying to blow this off with a joke he was dead serious. The hand kept creeping, nod, now he was playing with the edge of my panties. I did nothing but move closer.

This went on little touches, eyes sliding to meet.  Finally the hand slid in my panties, just the softest brush of fingers.  This time my eyes snapped open. I met his gaze and he chuckled at me. Sort of a busted thing. The hand came out and went around my shoulders. Nod, I could not keep my eyes open. Soon we arrived at my/our duplex. He turned off the car, looked at me, laughed, and put his head on the steering wheel shaking it back and forth.  I was barely conscious all energy expended. At the same time my heart beating like crazy with anticipation of what might happen. We went in J carrying the food and opening the front door and letting me go first.  Very stiff and date like for J.

J flips on a lamp and the TV, we sit down to eat.  I sit on the couch and J sits next to me so close his thigh and mine are touching. Again out of the ordinary he was always careful not to get to close to me, but all things were stange this night. We are eating our breakfast stuff I remember it being some sort of egg sandwich thing. I look at him and smile.  He looks at me and reaches up and touches his finger to my lips, then shows me a black speck pepper or something.  Then he puts it in his mouth. But again the gesture was full of double meaning. He then picked up my hand and entwined his fingers in it.  I thought my fucking heart was going to leap out of my chest.  Was this J holding my hand?  WTF it did not feel like the thousand times he had done it before moving me through bar crowds or just pulling me down the beach. We sit like that for a while me nodding against his chest. I remember his heart beating so fast and hard. Thumping like mad against my ear. For whatever reason he pulled my legs into his lap and my head went to the end of the couch.  But I was so drunk and so high.  Again Nod, only to awake with a hand on my stomach under my dress.  J got up to go use his bathroom and I went to change.  I stripped to my panties, throwing on an old T-shirt that was longer than my dress. I heard the shower in J’s room.  I think about shooting again chuckling yeah, I need dope. Dismissing the thought as a waste I was so tired.  And we had shot up before leaving the parking lot.  I was running on 36 hours without sleep. I remember trying to stay awake so hard.  I fell into my bed with the door open and light on hoping J would come in to turn it off. 

I knew this might be the one time we were both ready to find out what lay on the other side of friendship.  As I drifted out of reality I heard him calling me. "KEL, don’t go to sleep KEL!" then a whisper in my ear, hot breath smelling like alcohol on my face. The smell of soap and shampoo and wet hair hitting me. Then the shift of the bed as he crawled in next to me. Kel, you awake Tangerine? Then a warm hand sliding up my thigh over my ass and under the shirt to my bare back.  Then back down lingering on my ass. More whispers Kel, Kel, don’t do this to me.  Then blackness would over take me.  My mind screaming, YES, I want this, YES YES.  And my body saying fuck off, we have been awake 36 hours with little food and lots of drugs and boozze, good night.   I was sliding underwater.  Then I would surface and feel or hear J touching a little, whispering allot. Kel, come on, Tangerine, baby….   He pulled out the covers and got into bed covering me.  Putting his arm around my waist he pulled me over and I went happily into his chest.  He lay there on his back, my head on his shoulder.  Our fucking hearts making so much noise.  But my body would not wake.  Not even with the adrenalin running through.  I put my leg over him and brushed against just how close we were. I felt hands on my body, breasts.  Lips met and the hot kiss nearly blew my mind.  He was feeding at my mouth. Hands roaming all over me.  Months of frustration played out in that kiss.  Then blackness……….. I woke up the next day minus a T-shirt but nothing happened. I passed out for good and J would never take that kind of advantage. I think we both regret not getting to know each other in the biblical sense.   I may have failed to mention J was an unashamed sexist.  We argued all the time about it. He did not believe himself better than women, just that we had separate roles. I guess because I lead in all my relationships and this one was going to make me follow, yippee.

I was outside running Seth the next day.  I had a rottie at the time, which stayed with J. I always ran in the mornings.  I had a bad self esteem issue, mostly from the cancer, and could not work out enough. Even if I was nearly ready to die I would jog.  I loved that dog because I lived in a bad neighborhood or bad for Florida. And the dog would sit down behind me if some one came up since I always had headphones on.

When I came in I saw a brief flash of heat at the sports bra and running shorts, then nothing.  Hey, what’s up Tangerine?  We went along like nothing happened.  I am sure both of us waiting for the other to mention it.  And we never did until I was leaving.  I can tell you that night was hotter than many nights I have spent having sex.  The desire was so strong. 

I know he is gone forever.  How Kel?  Because he would have found me for sure.  I know that.  Maybe he found the love of his life and sobreity and never thought of me again, that’s a much better thought.

KEL

Well well well…… How hard they fall. For the second time in as many weeks I spent a day shooting lots of dope. Well for the second time or maybe the third. The next day I am stricken with fever and chills. I mean what the fuck. This shit is not good. I had 103 at one point this afternoon.

I will tell you what happened to me this morning and you junkie’s may laugh or cry I have done both. I got ohhhhh what 18 bags. I shot 14 yesterday, it was some fun but I was never blazing high, well one shot for me 6 bags was nice. Anyway I also rolled out of the vein and lost a 4 bag like a fucking new drug user. I wanted to slap myself. This gets better. I wake up this morning to cold, 41 degrees. And I think no I am sleeping until klinic day. Then I think you stashed 4 bags in your well not at home. So I jumped up got dressed and was off. I try to hold out until 9:30 for the wake up. I am only 72 hours without done and I had heroin. So I think better load up three and save the last one and the scrapes for the afternoon. So I load up 3 nice new fit to be sure I want no issues. I tie off feel the vein hit, draw back blood YAY, then I slowly start pushing. Ok the needle I clogged and not a little bit stuck. FUCK. I pull out the now bloody brown shit yum. I pull out another fit place it over the contact case and shoot the heroin into the other needle. Something goes fucking wrong. I have 5 units, there were 30. I look up and a brown and red spray pattern is across my desk. I just wasted my wake up. Why did I not use a lighter? What was my junkie mind doing? OMG the panic hits me. Ok breathe nothing you can do; nothing you can do. I load the rest. Scraping begging it takes me almost an hour to empty all the scrapes I have. Ok. Looks decent. Load, shoot, ahhhhhhh. I look at the clock 10:45AM. I am never going to make it. Ok get off the subject. Then I re-scraped in true junkie style, hmmmmm 50 bags worth of cotton, yep will take that. I shot the weakest shit imaginable but was sure I felt better. Page the morphine guy, oh ok.

No word from him it’s 4:07 PM, no one’s calling me. I must make it. Why am I so cold fuck? I check me temp. What the fuck? 103 nooooo 102.7 noooo 102.9 fuck. OK load me up take me down to the infirmary. Lay me down on cotton sheets. Get me to the klinic and I will change my ways.

KEL

Today is a wonderful, lovely, beautiful day! How are all my fair junkies? Kel is super, better than super. Wrapped in a warm blanket of heroin just in time to ward off the serious sick. I mean really I need so much to get high it’s stupid. So now to just stay on track after my pickup on Friday at the klinic. I am going to see if JYS will act as my “sponser” for lack of a better term. I will call, IM ,e-mail, whatever when the urge happens. And I know he will support me, JYS is good like that. Even typing that makes me sad. Because this needs to be the last of the heroin. Well only because I just got my sick off and I feel like the world is in Orge speak all “blowjobs and lollipops”, or something of the sort.

I adore the new guy SOMA, seems interesting don’t you think? I am so excited to get to know a member of the health care community that is in recovery. I have traded posts on a couple of boards with nurses in recovery and the prospective is always interesting. And I need someone new to harrass so Soma you are it. I think I finally annoyed Ogre to death.

Speaking of fellow JL people. Emerald/Samantha and I spoke on the phone for the first time ever. Always super strange IMO. But I loved her accent. One of my secrets is that I cannot resist accents mainly scottish/irish (Oh baby) and east coast (yeah baby). But anyway it was nice to hear how someone I adore so much sounds like. She is doing well and donating tons of time to the Katrina victims in the way of network repair. What a lady to help keep Red Cross cc transactions on-line and patch web calls from victims to family in other areas. To me that desearves a shout out. YAY. Thanks for all you do. Listen to me ramble on and stuff. And send me yummy bread. BTW I would rather have heroin but I did manage that on my own.

Speaking of hurricanes Hacker is home safe. I need to work with him as well as we have similar issues right now. Hacker thanks for the long comment and support. Yep. We need to chat right. BTW did you see the post about the dream I had about you, me, JYS and your wife out to dinner? Weird. But fun. That’s one I hope will come true.

I have a new pic. Got surprised by Lady M. Me high? NOOOOOOOOOOO

Well guys my cold is getting better… I thought I would die the last two days. If anyone questions just how sick I was get this, I stayed in bed and JYS was at home and on-line. I think it was a chest cold of some short not to get into gory details. Anyway after 48 hours of work,sleep, unbelievable sweating, four showers, lots of Nyquil, I seem to be getting better. Thank god I am truly an annoying sick person.

Anyway, I look back and cannot believe I posted that about the dancer days. Well it was not exactly a long period. I was not cut out for that life. I knew I was way too much of a prude to ever get into prostitution. But maybe I was just lucky enough to come from a good family one that would take me in and fix things. I have seen and heard many stories that are worse than mine. I am not begging for sympathy, this is just my story. I did that for about 8 weeks. Then I went home. Oh well I will continue the story later.

Things are good for me. I have decided to try and stop using again. Get my methadone back up. I have a couple of reasons why this seems to be a good idea. One it’s fairly expensive and well I enjoy life with money I do not want to give up my salon appointments, my pilates class, or a hundred other little things that have replaced the old dope money allotment. I guess being sober or at least mostly so has spoiled me. Two the only thing worse than having a full-blown heroin addiction is having a dual methadone/heroin habit. Three, the methadone it makes getting high fairly hard. I mean you just have to do quite a bit. So that takes the fun out of it. Doing 10 bags in a day and thinking what? So I may do it occasionally but as far as what I have been doing lately a few days a week that will stop. I found myself in a stupor the other day 12 bags and my dose. I just am not ready to go back to that and I think that’s why my memories have been haunting me. I am in a good place right now and jeopardizing it would be stupid. Sometimes I forget where I was before now. I won’t say came from because I came from an extremely nice family.

I am the pink sheep, thanks baby that made me laugh, as JYS called me today in my family. My sister and I discussed the evacuation of my mom and dad from Houston and Dad lives near San Antonio last time I checked in. It went badly the conversation and the evac. my step dad is one of those people stuck with no gas. He left Houston with a full tank and made it 40 miles in over eight hours. But for out purpose let’s discuss the conversation. It went a bit like this.

Me: So is Mom out and ok? Did she go to stay with Jason?

Dr.X: You are high aren’t you?

Me: No I am not just tired and sick with a cold. (Oh god she knows!)

Dr. X: Kel you just asked me if Mom was going to stay with our brother?

Me: Yeah so what?

Dr. X: Kel he moved to Corpus Christi two years ago.

Me: Oops, he doesn’t live in San Marcos anymore?

Dr.X: Kel what’s going on?

Me: Nothing dammit (shit motherfucking shit she knows and mom will call) I am fine just fine gotta go call Mom, kiss.

Dr. X: Call me back or I am calling you in an hour.

Me: Fine

She knew and the disappointment in her voice was two much to handle. So I crawled into my house really sick, and yeah really high. I looked at the computer as the phone startled me. I turned it off and went to get in the shower. My house seemed big and empty. I wanted my love. I wanted my friends and most of all I wanted heroin.

It was that moment, standing with dogs dancing at my feet, veins begging, that I realized I was falling into the hole. I was not in control. Not at all. I was blowing cash and doing the bags as fast as I picked them up. Not good.

Anyway, I do not want to go backward. I clawed my way up to this place. I do have a lot going for me 5 years as top management in a good company, a house, my doggies, my retirement, my savings, and my piece of mind.

Another thing happened the other night. I am not sure if I have talked about this kid that is 15 and lives near me almost next door. Well she has a key to my house and her parents well they are not the best. Not awful but she has a pretty drunk step dad. Anyway she comes over and uses my computer and stuff after school. She also walks my dogs for money. Anyway she is raising money to go to Europe next summer with her art class. She is just the best kid. I really enjoy her and we go shopping in the city and stuff. I am upstairs the other night sitting on the end of my bed having just packed away my stuff and put the tie on my arm when I hear the dogs go insane. Then I hear the door open and she is yelling KEL KEL KEL. FUCK. So I throw everything under the pillow and walk out shutting the bedroom door. But it just made me think this is how different my life is now. The old me would have never offered a key to this little girl. She would have been coming over unexpected; frankly I most likely would have not bothered with her at all. Not that I am better because I am not using but it is one more example of how different my life is now.

Why do I keep saying that, not that I am better because I am not using. Because some need the heroin and some handle getting high very well. I mean Samantha for one and SickGirl for another. Both seem perfectly happy neither one is homeless; many users are not scenes from Dope Sick Love. I consider myself a functional user since taking methadone is using for maintenance. And I was a functional addict chipping away for years. Then chipping gave way to habit and habit gave way to monster amounts. And one day a few years ago I was sitting in my shitty mid town apartment in a lawn chair thinking WTF I make 50k? I have no cable, only a cell phone, and utilities are always about to be cut off. Then I decided I was tired, not of drugs but of the chase. See it’s the chase that wore me out. The calling, the paging, the meeting, the missed meetings, the missed opportunities. It takes a lot of effort to stay supplied. You have to maintain your connections. You have to visit them often. You have to wait. And wait and wait some more. I laugh at people that get pissed about waiting in the line at the post office now. They have never sat staring at their phone trying to will it to ring because you are too sick to move. Something very innocent like a direct deposit being late or a bank holiday can throw you into orbit. I don’t miss it. I wish I was not like that but I am worse than ever in fact. I can’t seem to hold a bag for 20 min. Well that’s why they call me junky.

So that’s me today. In love, with you my sweet. In love with heroin. A little lost and battle weary but alive and kicking.

BYE